The Sherlockian Paradox
by WickedRocksSoMuch
Summary: L requires the help of the BAU to catch the man killing people as if it were a Sherlock Holmes story. But can Reid and L focus on the case when they finally discover someone like them?
1. Something Odd

AN: A little something that popped into my head. Whether it's story material is yet to seen. Hope you like it!

L approached this case much the same as he would any other. But this time was different. After all, it's not everyday there comes a case that the greatest detective in a century has difficulty in solving. In fact, it had been a great many years since it'd happened.

This case was but a shadow of what was to come. It was a reflection on one that had not yet happened. This was the case known to some as The Sherlockian Paradox. The only case yet to momentarily stump the great L.

L, of course, couldn't see any crime scenes with his own eyes, find clues with his own hands. So he needed a surrogate investigator. Or perhaps a team of them. Yes. A team would do quite nicely. He had heard that there was just such a team in the FBI. Called the Behavioural Analysis Unit. Profilers.

L needed them on the scene quickly as the death count had already reached 12. He knew the proper way to contact them, but completely ignored it. Instead, he sent a message to the leader of the team. Besides, in an emergency, not many people stand on ceremony.

Within minutes, a beep from one of his many computers told him that they were assembled. Another beep told him that the 'L' logo was floating on their computer screen. He had always wondered what it was like for other people to see that and know that they were speaking to the L. But that was a subject for another time. For now, back to the matter at hand.

He pulled up the video camera and viewed those who would act in his stead. His eyes took in everything. He profiled the profilers, essentially. Took what they did to others and turned it upon them, not a feeling he enjoyed himself. Turning on his synthetic voice, he spoke to the team of the BAU.

"This is L."

The reaction was a little less than he had anticipated. The man who was known as Hotch, the leader, nodded. A woman in a bizarre outfit got very pale, very fast. L recognized the woman next to her. She was the undercover agent from Russia... Prentiss was it? Yes, that was it.

L sized up those who remained. It seemed to him that there was an 80% chance the young man with the unkempt hair, the one who had some sort of humorous, play-on-words name, Reid or something like that, was the most intelligent. No, 90%. Therefore, L focused on him.

"I am requesting your help in a case I am currently working on. It's known as The Sherlockian Paradox. Have you received the information for it yet?" the fake voice asked. The man, Hotch, who was in charge, nodded. "How can we help you?" he asked.

"As I cannot look over the crime scenes myself, I wish for you to do so and compare your profile with mine. I cannot, of course, force you to. But I must ask that you do as I say." L did not cut corners. Nor did he embroider upon what he wished. He wanted the team to do this, therefore, what could they do?

"S-so we just drop the rest of our cases?" the strangely dressed woman wondered aloud. "As far as I am concerned, this is the only case you have at the moment." L replied. It may have been the false quality of his voice, but the remark sounded emotionless. No, as far as we will ever know, it may well have been emotionless. But as before, we do not know.

L studied everyone's reactions to his statement. Not for the first time, he wondered what they might have been thinking. He shrugged and told Watari that he could enter the room now. Watari did so and greeted the team.

L studied everyone, "This is Watari, if you need anything, let him know and he will help you to the best of his ability. Do you have any questions concerning the case and your involvement in it?" L asked them.

Apparently, the young man called Reid did, in fact, have a question concerning said case. "How do you know it's Sherlockian? There are not that many murders in Sherlock Holmes. Could you explain that a little more clearly?" he enquired.

"Of course, the perpetrator seems to have twisted every story from the canon into a murder. He has already finished with the 'Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' and has moved onto the 'Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes'. He doesn't care about the victims, just the books. All that would appear to matter to him is following the stories in his own twisted way. Does that answer your question?"

Reid nodded. Everyone else looked mystified though. Reid was evidently the only Sherlockian there. L decided that he could most likely trust these people. So, he continued "Should you have further questions, Watari will provide you with my phone number. Your plane leaves in one hour. Please be ready. Also, might I add, do not be alarmed, but I have sent one of my agents to meet you at the airport."

With that, the screen went blank. L got up from his usual crouched position. He knew he had seen Reid somewhere before... but where? He shook his head and got back to the matter at hand. Knowing he was no good to anyone while stressed, he made himself a cup of coffee. His way. They were almost out of sugar, he reminded himself to tell Watari to buy more.

He settled into his seat and sipped at the brew. He reached for the cake on the table and munched away. He puzzled over the case. What kind of sherlockian would change the stories to such an extent? Who would think to kill people in such a way.

But one thing else was on L's mind. What significance did the puzzles found at each scene hold? Why did the killer leave these things behind? So he could get caught? Or because he wanted to say 'Look what I can do that you can't!' it made L bend his fork out of shape to think about it.

He cleared his head of such thoughts and calmly went over the facts. The murderer had left a Latin sentence at each crime scene, pointing to the next murder. The first one went: 'Quid clarum crassa? Rutilae comae et foedere!' which meant 'What's thick and bright? The red hair of the league!' within four days, the next victim, Millicent Wilson, a red head, was killed.

L himself did not know how to tackle the case, but felt that if he got a goo noghts sleep, but felt it unlikely. He knew that the team would never guess the identity of the agent he was sending. And really, that was for the better. For everyone.

Though, he couldn't help but feel useless about needing to call in anyone. However, he knew of nothing else to do. Thus did he speculate over what the murderer might be gaining from all of this. Aside, of course, from the pleasure of confusing the great L himself. L decided to let sleeping dogs lie and attempt to sleep. Not that it was very likely.

L never did sleep. He hadn't for quite a while. As he trotted of, he muttered something to himself.

"Sleep. Hmmm. 7% chance."

AN: Hmmm, I think I will make this a story. I will update it whenever I get the chance. But one thing more. I have to wonder when L met Spencer before. If you have any ideas, feel free to let me know!


	2. Something New

AN: I need music in order to write well. I'm not going to tell you the magical blend of tunes that make the stories come together, but suffice to say, they are all somehow anime-related in my mind. But forget about me, let's see the developments in the case! :)

L pored over the details of the case. Quick question, have you ever forgotten what you were going to say and completely blanked? Well, that about sums up how he was feeling about the case. In other words, there was something that was on the tip of his tongue that would solve it, all of it, if only he could just remember what it was!

He leaned back on his heels and took a deep breath. The BAU had arrived the day before. He ran over the scene in his mind.

_The team stepped off the plane and looked around for L's agent. L had arranged for several official-looking people to stand around looking important. He wanted to test their deductive abilities..._

L paused a moment, thinking back on it and smiled. He had never expected things to turn out this way. Honestly though, it was so strange that it had happened in such a way. He had figured there was only an 8% chance of it turning out this way...

_Reid glanced around him for the right agent. We was momentarily distracted by something. And that's when he saw Ryuzaki. He studied him intently. He motioned for the rest of the team to follow him as he set off in Ryuzaki's direction. He smiled when he got there and said "Hello, are you the agent L sent?" _

L had been very impressed. But it only strengthened his theory that he had met Reid somewhere before. However, now was not the time for such thoughts, now was the time for action. Now was the time for figuring this case out. And perhaps a doughnut...no, must remain focused!

He rang for more sweets. His brain was going to need them. Last night the killer had struck again. L ran over the facts once more in his mind. The killer had changed his M.O. Slightly.

This victim had been found at a horse track. A silver blaze had been painted on their forehead. The victim had been drugged. The drug had yet to be identified, but L had a fair idea as to what it was. Hmmm, just one thing was bothering him.

The killer had changed languages. L could only assume that his thought process was 'Since there is no Latin word for cardboard box, I should make it more difficult.' or something like that. But for what reason would he have switched to CZECH? Of all languages!

But...Bohemia is mentioned a few times in Holmes stories...perhaps the killer is pointing to that? Or he could native to there. The phrase in question went like this:

'Lepenkové krabice, jste v kartónové krabici. A vy se nikdy se z toho dostat, _nikdy více_.' which meant 'Cardboard box, you are in a cardboard box. And you shall never get out of it, _never more_.' or maybe...

Maybe, just maybe he could be saying that he was American. After all, that could be taken as a reference to Poe. It was definitely a reasonable possibility. About a 7% chance. The more L thought about, the more it made sense. After all, most Sherlockian's could be found in America.

But who did that help? So, he was an American, so was most of the world. That put L right back at square one. But it was something. At any rate, if he didn't leave now, he was going to be late.

Fifteen minutes later, Ryuzaki arrived at the BAU's temporary set-up at the place L had provided for them. "Hello everyone. I trust you've all settled in? Very good. Now, have you thought of anything for the case?" Ryuzaki asked, looking at each one of them. Reid tentatively raised his hand. "I think he may be an American." he said.

Ryuzaki regarded him for a moment before saying "Yes, I thought so too. What are your reasons?" he asked curiously. Reid flushed red and stuttered "W-well, it's j-just that he q-quotes Poe and most Sherlockian's are American and um, well, I think that's it." he trailed off, suddenly finding that the floor was highly interesting.

Ryuzaki smiled. It was rare for someone to be so completely like him. In fact, it wasn't just rare, it was almost non-existent. But regardless of that, he knew that the theory needed just a bit more. "I thought of those too, but you seem to have left one out. The killer has purposefully never used a word of English. British people are very proud of their language. It's only the American's who do not like it. So, that would be the final proof that it would be an American." he finished.

The team nodded at this logic. Reid flushed even darker at having missed it. Ryuzaki felt it necessary to continue asking for everyone's theories. If only to get rid of the awkward silence. And besides, for some reason, he didn't want Reid to be embarrassed. How extremely odd.

So they got everyone's ideas on the case. That Prentiss woman believed that the killer probably used to be a part of the police force, there are only so many jobs for a Sherlockian to take that would enable he/she to learn how to kill someone this effectively.

So by the end of the day, everyone went to bed feeling as though they had accomplished something. Though, Reid just went to bed wondering if Ryuzaki was going to smile again tomorrow. Which, for some strange reason, made him very happy.

L did not sleep. Listening to the BAU's ideas had made him even more alert than his previous sugar-induced self had been. He smiled though, remembering the way Reid had blushed- but he couldn't go there. Stay focused on the case! He cleared his head and took a moment to chomp on his cake.

L had, of course, no idea who the killer was. After all, how could he? But he had to wonder, what did the killer have against the greatest detective in a century? Was it personal? Or had L done something to the unsub indirectly? Either way, he had to be stopped before he could add more victims to the already formidable pile.

L sighed and got up. He knew just the person who would be able to help, he just hoped he wouldn't be bothering her too much. He pressed speed dial and waited for her to pick up.

"Thou hast reached Storm, beg for your life, mortal. If you ask nicely, I may help you with your case."

L sighed again and began "What if it wasn't me calling? And, uh, I do need some help with the case." he told the woman named Storm all about the case. "Yeah, I was wondering when you were going to ask for my help, big brother. Besides, in matters of Holmes, you are totally out of your depth." Storm chirped.

"So you'll help me? When can you be here?" L asked quickly. "Give me a little credit here. Anaia, why must you always underestimate me? I'm standing right behind you!" Storm told him sternly. L spun around to see a teenager, about 17.

"Watson has arrived! How can I help?"

AN: Translations and Explanations: Anaia= Brother in Basque, and as to Storm, well, she's "L's Housekeeper" in a way. A bit of background: She specializes in hostage situations and cases with women or children as victims. She worked in the FBI for a while but felt she was needed elsewhere. She grew up at Wammy's House. Hope you all enjoyed!


	3. Something Found

Authors Note: I apologize for the break between updates, and to my others readers, rest assured I'll be updating my other stories as soon as I can. Other than that, enjoy!

The BAU piled into the office that had been allotted them. They glanced around, but could find no sign that Ryuzaki had gotten there before them. Hotch sat down and motioned for the rest of the rest to do the same.

Reid was the last to, reluctantly, sit and wait. He fiddled with the Holmes book he had brought with him for reference. He was also to hear the foot steps coming down the hallway. He tensed, but relaxed when he realized that it was two sets of footsteps. Ryuzaki usually came alone.

But for once, Reid was wrong. Did not see that one coming. Because at this time, when Ryuzaki walked through the door, he has a bizarrely dressed woman with him. She almost resembled Garcia. Almost.

The strange woman leaned against the wall. "Who are you?" Hotch asked her. "And your FBI?" she asked, dodging the question. "What does that have to do with it?" Prentiss asked calmly.

"Well, it's just that I was under the impression that all the FBI have to know who Storm is, after all, I happen to be one of the only detectives who's names and faces are common knowledge." Storm retorted.

"You're Storm?" Morgan asked sceptically. "Why wouldn't I be?" she returned. "I was expecting someone more...well...more." he finished. Quirking an eyebrow, Storm shrugged. "Ryuzaki? You wanted to tell them something?" she muttered, her hair falling into her face.

"Yes, quite." the aforementioned detective replied. He mounted one of the chairs in his odd way while simultaneously pulling a chocolate bar from his back pocket. "You see," he said, munching away,

"The killer has struck again, just last night. You will receive the information in two minutes. I would like to show it to you, and hen have your opinions on it." this too, was a test, to see would pick it up, and who would not. His bets were on Reid.

As they opened the files, Ryuzaki and Storm studied the faces of the team members. They ranged from totally confused, to utterly disgusted, to a faint grasping of the matter at hand. To everyone's surprise, Hotch was the first to break the silence.

"Reid, pass me that book..." he muttered. Reid handed the volume to his leader. The man in question took it from his hand and found the index. He examined it for a while. Then he put it down and looked Ryuzaki and Storm in the eye. Quite an undertaking.

"So, he skipped right on past six stories and just did The Final Problem? What does that tell us?" Hotch asked sharply. Ryuzaki and Storm looked at each other, looked back at the team, and then Storm spoke.

"We believe...that something bad is about to happen, and you aren't going to be liking this recent development...the next story is the final problem, and that means that...we may lose this guy." she finished.

"NO!"

Reid's outburst shocked everyone, for it had, in fact, been him. They couldn't believe the emotion that the former agent's words had evoked. He had, by this point, worked himself to the brink of hyperventilation.

"No, what do we know about this guy? He kills people every sixth day. In honour of the great detective's birthday. He kills only people who resemble either the victim, or the bad guy in the story," Reid paused to take a breath before continuing.

He wants to use what he is doing in some sick dedication to Holmes. And from this information. We can assume that he thinks he is Holmes himself." Reid finished, rather out of breath.

Ryuzaki nodded "Exactly as Storm said. May I conclude?" at a nod from Reid he proceeded. "We can assume this because he knows L is unofficially on the case." Ryuzaki stated.

Which establishes that he is, in fact, on the police force. But that's beside the fact. He knows that I am and therefore...he has found his Moriarty." he finished.

"So...we have six days to catch him?" Garcia demanded, having only just made it for the last little bit. Luckily, she had basically summed up the whole thing. Storm sized her up.

"So you're the hacker...and what have you found?" she asked quietly. Garcia glanced at her, momentarily stalled. She regained her usual enthusiasm quickly. Setting down a laptop on the table, she quickly scanned through some files.

"So, based on this, my lovelies, I have narrowed down the suspect pool to only a few suspects..." she said, pausing for dramatic affect.

"And?" Ryuzaki prompted. This got him a withering glare from Garcia, who was a very dramatic person, and Storm, who understood. It slid off of him like water. Rolling her eyes, Storm moved from her position on the wall. She moved to the laptop and scanned the screen.

Storm looked through her bangs at the team. She glanced back to the screen. She nodded to Garcia, so as not to steal the moment. Garcia told them all what she had found.

"So, only six people match the boundaries you gave me. Four of them have an alibi for all of the murders. Whereas the other two, um...well there's a bit of a problem with this. The one of them has alibi's for the murders that the second on doesn't have an alibi for. And vice versa. Maybe they're working together?" she left the question hanging.

"Good. I was hoping it would be like this." Storm said cryptically. She was met by confused looks form almost everyone.

"Watson? The submissive is being Watson?" Reid asked, having not thought of that. Ryuzaki gave Storm an 'I told you so' look, that some people would probably say they've seen on their siblings. These people may be lying and should be ignored at all costs, for your personal safety.

This was the final piece of the puzzle needed. The team got set to move out and apprehend the two suspects.

Hemlock Elrhoss

and, Josh Wanton

Hours later, L stared at the screen and decided that the names were fake. He didn't even need an anagram solver to figure it out.

Storm found it hilarious.

Authors Note: I hope you enjoyed that, I did make Storm a little more depressed than I would have liked, but oh well. Again, will be uploading the rest soon. See you next time.


	4. Something Missing

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long, I was deciding whether to put in the idea I've been planning. You'll see.

When the the members of the BAU gathered in the meeting room, it was with an air of excitement. They had all just gotten ready to apprehend the suspects, and they couldn't quite shake their euphoria. But there are some kinds of happiness that just need to be crushed, and this was, unfortunately, one of those.

The screen of the T.V., suddenly glowed an ethereal white. The FBI agents tensed, but relaxed when they saw the L floating in the middle of the screen.

"L here." the words emanated through the room. "I regret to inform you that Ryuzaki will be unable to join you on the mission. Storm will go in his stead." the man behind the letter told them. Quite calmly, it must be said.

Storm made her grand entrance...and was promptly ignored. So she leaned against the wall. Again.

"What? Why not?" Reid demanded. "What happened to him?" Hotch asked, more calmly then Reid. "He's left. And he won't be back here." the synthetic voice of the greatest detective in the world said, as though the weight of his burden had suddenly become to much to bear.

"So, are we going to catch the fake men-of-mystery, or are we going to stay here and ruminate over the fact that Ryuzaki went AWOL?" Storm demanded from her position on the wall. "She's right, let's go." Hotch ordered. He and everyone but Storm and Reid left. L hadn't yet logged off, and Reid addressed him.

"Did he, um, leave of his own volition? I mean, did he, uh, want to leave?" the resident genius of the BAU stuttered. Though Reid couldn't see him, L made a sympathetic face on the other end of the line.

"Yes, he did."

Reid's shoulder's sank and he left the room. Storm eyed the L on the television. "So, is this war over the L name, or the guy who looks like he just watched his cat die?" she in enquired. "It's the name. 80% sure." L replied.

Storm rolled her eyes and ran to catch up with the rest of them. She was in luck, she got to drive. Back in headquarters, L stared at where the team had been sitting just moments ago. He numbly turned off the computer and turned to face the live feed of the inside of the car the team was in.

He tried to think about the case, but the thought that kept haunting him was the lie he'd told his sister. It wasn't 80%. Not at all, no.

It was 50%.

The 'detectives' were supposed to be at work, at the police station. Since they were loosing time, Storm drove as she usually would. Which translated into them rocketing down the road at at least twice the accepted speed limit. L winced at his sibling's driving habits. He pressed the button on his intercom marked 'W'.

L settled down into his customary pose and instructed his helper to follow closely behind, and to use his sniper rifle if the situation called for it. Having done so, the great man pulled his mound of sweets closer and began chowing down.

L studied the four scenes in front of him. Watari's car, Storm's car, the road around them, and the inside of the police station where Officers Elrhoss and Wanton were stationed.

And then the agents arrived at their destination.

Storm swerved to a stop and hopped out of the car. Everyone else moved rather more slowly, looking as though they might throw up, or already had.

Morgan, being the first to regain his balance, headed for the door. The rest followed, when they, too, had had their sense of direction returned to them. Storm glanced over her shoulder and ascertained Watari's position. Having done so, she went inside as well.

The two suspects froze as they entered. If not this, then they were likely guilty of something else. Storm leaned over the edge of Officer Elrhoss's desk. "Hello there, my name's not a lame anagram of a fictional character. Nice to meet." she said, grinning from ear-to-ear. Now that got a response.

He shot up in the air and raised his hand to hit her. "How dare you insult me, I'm the greatest detective in the world!" he cried. Storm grabbed his arm and flipped him to the ground. "I've met the greatest detective in the world, and believe me, you ain't him." she hissed.

She sighed as she heard someone cock their gun by her head. "Move and I'll, um, shoot." said the man who had been faking a limp a second ago. Officer Wanton. Watson.

"Shoot me, and you as well will be dead. In fact, you'd be dead before you could shoot me. If you doubt it, you can feel free to try. Besides, what kind of self-respecting war veteran opens fire on an opponent with their back turned to him?" she stated clearly and concisely. She felt more than heard the gun lower.

Morgan grabbed the 'Doctor' and Hotch took the fake Holmes. Storm stumbled off and stared intently at the security camera. "Did you get all of that?" she muttered. The camera flashed an affirmative. She nodded and proceeded to collapse on the floor.

Back in his hotel room, L worriedly told Watari to check on her. But as the danger had, for the most part, passed, he relaxed his position and lay on the ground, for what was probably the first time in years.

But it wasn't over. L groaned internally. He would be conducting the interrogations himself. A thought that he did not enjoy in the least. And on the subject of unhappy thoughts...

How to deal with Ryuzaki? How to deal with...B.B.? L's backup had made it quite clear that this was war. L only hoped it would end alright. But this case had to be finished first.

Author's Note: Ryuzaki's B.B.! You didn't see that coming did you? (For those who don't know, look up Death Note Beyond Birthday, or the Character list of Death Note on Wikipedia.)


	5. Something Who

Authors Note: I humbly request your forgiveness for not updating, I am so, so sorry. But it will be longer in recompense, I swear it! Other stories will be updated soon to!

L had always been an active individual, dating back to his childhood and the avoidance of the Winchester Mad Bombings. When solving a case, he did not much like to be stuck in a room, watching the action take place. As such, many disguises had to be assumed, and many allies were needed.

So when L left his apartment, it was not L who left, it was, or would have appeared to be, a foreign family out on vacation. Mother, father, and teenage child. But this was far from the truth. In fact, it was a thief, a con man, and the world's greatest detective who left that apartment, bound for the FBI's headquarters.

Conveniently, a seminar on criminal behavior was that day as well, extremely conveniently, in fact.

"Bye, Mum! Bye, Dad! See you later!" called the young man at the departing vehicle that had left him there. He then promptly pulled out a cell-phone and began to dismantle the firewalls that were in place for safety reasons. The dial tone began to ring, as an elderly gentleman opened the door to FBI headquarters. The young man nodded at him and began chatting in rapid fire Japanese with the person on the other end. He hung up quickly and pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket.

At that exact moment, the BAU were gathering in the meeting room to await the interrogator that Storm had told them would be meeting them here. Reid was starting to get edgy. He felt hurt by Ryuzaki's leaving and couldn't understand why. Frustration to the extreme is what followed. They were all extremely tense. So when a strange young man who bore an uncanny resemblance to the departed Ryuzaki entered the room and sat on the ground, knees hugged to his chest, they all jumped.

"You're the one that he sent to interrogate?" Hotch asked quietly. What wasn't asked was why L thought them incapable of questioning the suspects. In answer to both, the youth cocked his head to the side and munched reflectively on his chocolate bar. Finding it unsatisfactory, he instead pulled a box of panda cookies and snapped the head off of one.

"Well," said the strange boy, around mouthfuls, "You see, I'm just working with him on this one case. I'm Eraldo Coil, by the way, it's very nice to meet you." He finished, happily emptying the box within seconds. The name elicited a strong response from the older agents (and Reid, who read a lot), but nothing much from the younger generation.

"Oy! Are you coming or not? We haven't got all day you know!" an overly loud voice bellowed from the hallway. The-man-who-was-evidently-Coil rose fluidly and slumped off (he really had terrible posture) after that voice. As it turned out, the voice belonged to Storm, who had apparently escaped the 'tender, loving care' of the hospital staff to make it here. She was casually leaning against the wall, waiting for them to, as she put it, 'make their grand entrance'.

As a group, they made their way down to the interrogation rooms, where Hotch and Storm would interview 'Watson' and Coil and Reid would interview 'Holmes'. First, Coil and Reid made their way inside.

Coil immediately found a chair and sat down upon it in his unusual fashion. Reid sat down and looked to the recorder to begin writing down the words. Here is what it said.

_Suspect, Elrhoss, is wearing a Dr. Who shirt concealed poorly under his trench coat. Also has an odd looking hat on._

E: You can't prove anything, you know. A great detective never leaves a trace.

C: Indeed. However, you aren't and as such, you did. You know, I've never known a Sherlockian to be a Whovian as well. You break new boundaries.

_Suspect fidgets with coat, trying to hide his shirt._

R: I've heard a lot of puns about Watson being The Doctor, now that you mention it.

C: Yes, and I do believe that they are having a convention tonight. Most fascinating.

_Coil eats a half-finished chocolate bar. Suspect looks around anxiously. He tugs at his collar. _

E: You'll never catch him! He's to good. Oh, much, much to good for you. So what if I'm not a true Sherlockian? Journey's End is coming, and we have explosives to match!

_Suspect laughs manically and faints. _

End Recording.

Coil sprung from his chair and hastened to door. He flung it openand raced to the other interrogation room, where Storm and Hotch were with Mr. Wanton. "He's a decoy. Elrhoss is the submissive; we're looking for a Dr. Who fanatic. And we have to hurry!" he panted as he dragged them from the room. Storm nodded and grabbed her bag. From which, she managed to procure a red wig, several bow ties, and a fez. Slapping the wig on her head and throwing the bow ties at the others, she raced to her car. Coil was already inside on the passenger's side.

The rest piled in, too confused to question the course of action. Storm stomped her foot down and they were off. Several law-breaking minutes later they had arrived at their destination. The FBI's finest climbed out, significantly paler than when they began. Reid adjusted his bowtie.

Coil exited the car, completely unfazed, and quietly admired the young mans composure. He glanced away sharply when Reid turned and looked at him questioningly. Reid himself was thinking how like and unlike Coil and Ryuzaki were to each other. It was almost as though one was real and the other fake. But he couldn't tell which was which. It bothered him to no end.

While Reid was busy puzzling that over, Coil, was talking to storm in first Italian, then French, Japanese, back to French, changing languages like someone might change a channel. Storm grinned and fixed her wig. Suddenly her already deafening voice took on a distinctively Scottish hue. She was ready, and now was only waiting for orders from L.

Just then, her phone loudly played the Pokemon theme song that signaled a call from L. She picked up the phone and was greeted by the voice of a young man. "You will not help him. This is about pride, Storm. Pride, and one other thing. L is After Beyond Birthday."

The line went dead.

Coil quirked an eyebrow questioningly at her. She shook her head and looked away.

Reid put his finger upon the answer.

And Coil, and therefore the great L himself, the centuries greatest detective, and perhaps the bravest man this world has ever known, motioned for the to enter the convention.

So it was that, with the any number of questions and many, many mistakes, the BAU prepared to enter the Dr. Who convention.

And the horror within.

Authors Note: Didn't see the Dr. Who coming, did you? Me either...


	6. Something Finished

Author's Note: Well, I'm back again. Hi.

As every fan knows, Doctor Who has had more enemies than companions. Thus it is with the great L. So perhaps he felt some kinship with the killer.

"I wonder if they'll have any food here." Coil wondered aloud.

Or, perhaps not.

The BAU and Coil (and Storm), dressed up as assorted Whovians, pushed their way through the crowd, taking care to look for anyone who fit the profile.

_L's Checklist:_

_ -Sherlockian (the whole case points to it)_

_ -Aggressive Personality (he's the dominant)_

_ -Tall (when talking about him, the submissive looked up as if talking to him at that moment)_

And in a Dr. Who convention, that's really all you need to know. How many people in that room, do you think, would match such a description?

As it turned out, two.

One of them stood in a corner, conversing with several other suspicious-looking characters. He had on a blue scarf and a black trench coat. The other was eating ice-cream with someone dressed as River Song. He wore a deer-stalker cap. Both were taking control of the conversation. Both looked to be well over 6 foot. But only one of them was standing next to Jim Moriarty.

For those who don't know, in the (fantastic) television show Sherlock, Moriarty attempts to blow up Watson. Rather fitting, no?

Anyway, amongst themselves, the BAU and Storm had decided to go after the one with Moriarty who was more suspicious, and they sent Coil and Reid to the ice-cream eating fellow. At that moment, River got up and left in a huff. Reid sat down where she had been and fidgeted with his bowtie. Coil stood behind him and turned his head sideways at the Sherlockian/Whovian. The man in question glared back balefully.

"Problem?" he asked.

"Well, we're, erm, investigating a case, and we were wondering if you could help us?" Reid said, Coil's presence behind him making him feel nervous. The suspect shrugged.

'Good, that's basically a yes.' thought Reid.

"So, where were you last week on Tuesday evening?" he asked, growing bolder as he went.

"Why?"

Spencer never did get to answer that question. At that very moment, a large piece of concrete fell from the ceiling and crushed the suspect. So, it wasn't him. Coil glanced to where the rest of the group was, only to find that the other suspect had reached a similar fate. Damn.

"Figured it out yet, little detectives?"

The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere. But when Coil, or rather, L, looked around, all he could see was a tiny woman in a trench coat holding a riding crop.

And then he understood. Reid did too by the look of it. He moved to grab her but was stopped by her voice.

"No, I don't think so, dear. Stay back and let me blow this, this and all of America, to the ground."

"No. Evil must not be allowed to win, Miss Adler, or, should I rather say, Mrs. Elrhoss? Your husband tried to convince us that it was a Doctor Wannabe, but he's not nearly clever enough to sell it, madam. Shall you make this, easy, or difficult?" L calmly asked.

Mrs. Elrhoss grinned. "It would hardly be fair to make this easy for you after you've made it so very difficult for me."

And then several things happened all at once. The first was that Storm (having snuck up behind) stuck her gun into Elrhoss's back. Elrhoss, surprised, dropped the detonation button. L swooped down to grab it and promptly dispatched of it.

And thus ended the great Sherlockian Paradox.

Almost.

...

...

...

At the BAU headquarters:

The 'L' is floating in the middle of a white screen. L thanks Hotch and his team for their help with the case and invites them to join him on another case some time.

In an internet cafe in America:

"You know, Reid, you did a very good job. Almost as good as on the Marlowe Massacre of 2001."

"You were there for that? You can't possibly be. The only one who was, well, he and I were extremely close. You can't be-"

And then Spencer was cut off.

Because he had just been kissed by the century's greatest detective. He found that he was unable to talk after that point and resolved to go over the matter later.

Then again, perhaps it wasn't all that important.

Author's Note: And thus it ends. Man, I love this story, hope you did too! 


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